


Voices Soft as Thunder

by bluepaperboy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Headcanon, Human Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, One Shot, Post-Hell, Protective Sam, Tired Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-31 15:17:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8583295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluepaperboy/pseuds/bluepaperboy
Summary: Castiel is human, and everything is wrong. Nightmares block any attempt to sleep, and pain is his constant companion. He'd give anything for a chance at rest, at a break from it all. But that solace comes in a different form than he expected.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Confession: I have yet to actually finish Supernatural. So no, this is not even slightly canon compliant. Takes place some time after Dean is brought out of hell. Castiel is human, but that's about the extent of the plot line I have set up around his condition - it has nothing to do with the Metatron story arc.

I should be watching over you.

_You shouldn’t be watching over me._

  
Castiel sat on the far edge of the bed. His back was arched, his shoulders were slumped. Over the course of the past few weeks, the dark circles under his eyes had become more prominent. The baggy t-shirt and sweatpants he wore looked foreign on him, especially given the fact he had no idea who or what AC/DC was. He’d been borrowing night clothes from Sam and Dean ever since they realized the angel couldn’t be counted on to change them. At first, he had switched alternately, but Dean's tended to fit better. Sam was unreasonably tall.

His clothes reflected the state of the room, always dark, dirty, and an ominous reminder that he was closed in. The overhead lights hadn’t been turned on since Cas moved in, so the only light source in his miserable box was the nighttime window behind him. The scene was almost laughably dramatic.

As far as time went, well, a quick glance out the window told him it was past midnight. Cas gave in to weariness in his bones and let his head fall into his hands. It had been maybe nine nights since he'd gotten any real sleep. He sunk lower, trying to think clearly. Nine? He couldn’t count any more. Maybe two weeks since the nightmares had started? The uncertainty scared him. Facts and figures were easy to keep track of in his head when he was lucid, they helped him stay grounded, made his life a reality rather than the hell on earth he lived now. But the nighttime winds were howling and racing each other outside, and they stroked and stirred and dismantled any thoughts he might be able to form?

However long a time he’d been like this, he’d been staying with the Winchesters longer. Castiel liked to tell himself it wasn’t his choice, remaining here, that he’d be just as pathetic anywhere else. The brothers had insisted on it-- yes, he’d refused originally, but when Dean followed him upstairs and held him tightly and explained his problems in a way that just made sense, where every word, as it was spoken, was perfect, and a dam broke. He had known he couldn’t carry on without them.  
The doorknob rattled, and cursing accompanied it. Cas slowly raised his head. The little menace was locked, and Cas knew it. But the aching in his limbs and the fog in his head kept him from answering. He looked towards the rattling frame plaintively, as if whoever was on the other side of it would pull him out of the haze. The door finally opened, and a man entered the room.

“Dean,” Cas said.

“Holy shit!” Dean said, jumping back in surprise and banging his shoulder against the door frame. “Cas,” he said. “Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you- “

You shouldn’t be apologizing to me.

Cas waved his hand and cut Dean off quickly. “You didn't. What are you doing awake?”

Dean stared at him, massaging his shoulder. “I was trying to find a flashlight, mine ran out of battery,” he said gruffly. “What’s your excuse?”

Cas stood up, ignoring the second part of Dean's answer. “The flashlight's just here - “

He reached for the light that lay on the table, but as soon as he leaned forward, his vision lost focus and his chin dipped down to his chest. He tried to stay conscious as the world continued spinning. He would have ended up on the floor had Dean not caught him by the shoulders and held him fast.

You shouldn’t be catching me.

“Cas, buddy,” he said, his voice softening. “C’mon, we've got to get you to bed.”

Castiel shook his head, but he couldn’t fight with Dean. He stumbled slowly as the other man helped him to the head of the bed and sat him down, tucking him in like a child.

You shouldn’t be helping me.

Cas sat up as soon as he was under the covers. Mumbling protests, he tried to push off the blankets and swing his legs off the bed. He couldn’t quite do it, but he managed to make a mess of the bed which Dean had tried to neaten. Dean shook his head in amazement, then apparently gave up. He mumbled something at Cas about sleep, then left the room, rubbing his bloodshot eyes as he went.

He gasped, “Dean, please, I can’t.” Dean stopped and turned. Cas propped himself up on his elbows. There was a pause. Dean opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it. “You've been to hell,” Cas said matter of factly.

Dean froze. “You were the one who brought me out of it,” he managed. “You should know.”

Castiel gave a slow nod. “You must have had all the repercussions, though,” he said. “The nightmares. The day visions. The never ending pounding in your head. And the pain, Dean, the pain.” Dean walked towards him, and sat heavily on the other side of the bed. “Tell me,” His voice had a certain desperate tone to it. Pleading, almost. “How did you make it stop?”

There was a long pause. Cas had collapsed back to down to a laying position, unable to bear his own body weight any more. Finally, slowly, carefully, Dean pulled the covers back and adjusted his position, in some sort of mix between sitting and laying down. “When I was with Lisa, it helped… “ he said haltingly.

You shouldn’t be telling me.

“Just having another person, another anchor to reality next to me, that helped.” He looked over at Cas. “If… if you wouldn't mind, maybe it would… maybe I could… “

Cas closed his eyes. “Please.”

-:-

Dean had neglected to mention the two guilty pleasures he got out of sleeping next to Cas. It was a favor to himself as much as it was to the angel. His own nightmares had never stopped, not really. They’d improved with time. And when he was drunk, he normally passed out without them. But… they were still there. And he knew he couldn’t fight and operate drunk all the time, it would kill him. What a stupid way to go, he’d reprimand himself. You’re a goddamn crazy monster hunter who caused the apocalypse, and you die of alcohol poisoning. Yet despite the resolution to stop, he was nearly addicted. Far easier said than done.

The second reason was more selfish. He had craved human comfort, nearness, a reprieve for so long that when the opportunity finally came he had no restraint. He’d fallen hard for Cas, a long time ago. And it had taken him over a year, but he had finally picked up from that, moved on. And now he was back to square one.

He woke up the next morning, turned on his side away from Cas. His neck ached, but he'd slept better than he had in weeks. He glanced over his shoulder. Cas was still there, sleeping soundly on his back.

Someone was rapping on the door. “Cas?” came Sam’s voice. He sounded worried. “Cas, Dean’s gone.” There was a pause. Dean sat up and swung his legs over the side of the of the bed, grumbling. “Cas, I'm coming in.”

Dean swore loudly, and stumbled to the door, opening it a second before Sam. “What do you want.”

Sam inhaled slowly, and rested his hand on the door frame. He opened his mouth once, but seemed at a loss for words. Finally, he asked, “ What… What were you doing in there?” His expression was pained.

Dean immediately flushed. He could only imagine what Sam was thinking (it's not like he'd ever done anything else when he got someone in the bedroom), but it wasn't like that, not at all… He coughed. “Cas was, ah, he… He was having nightmares. Rebound, from hell. And the rest of his life. And he asked-” No. That wasn't true. And he didn't want to put words into Cas’ mouth. “I offered… I mean, it helped me when I was with Lisa, and… “ He cut himself off. He was rambling, and not making much sense, but he trusted Sam to understand what he meant.

Sam stared at him for a long time, his eyes ever so slightly narrowed. His face finally relaxed. “Alright, yeah…”

Dean gave him a tight smile, and a friendly slap on the back as he pushed past him. “I'm making pancakes,” he declared as he walked down the hall. “You want some?”

And nothing more of it was said between the two of them.

-:-

It took a week for Cas to become anywhere near fully functional again. A little past that for Dean to become comfortable with their sleeping arrangement. Life was quiet (or, at least, as quiet as was possible for the hunters). Small excursions in between research, but nothing presented much trouble.

Sam has cornered Cas after they'd dealt with a particularly tricky demon. Dean had taken the car to pick up a pizza, and, being that it was really just a few blocks away, Cas and Sam were walking back to the apartment.

Abruptly, Sam grabbed Cas’ shoulder and brought him to the side. He glanced around him warily, then said, “Look Cas, I know that Dean said he was just in your room because you were having nightmares-”

He shouldn’t be trusting me.

Cas blinked, his brow beginning to furrow. He dropped his gaze.

“- But I wanted to hear it from you. “ Sam looked at him expectantly, as if anticipating a different answer.

Cas paused for just a second. “No,” he said. “That’s right. It's… it's helped.” His eyes flicked up to Sam’s. The other man met then steadily.

“Listen, Cas. If he ever gives you any trouble, anything you're not willing to do…“ Sam made a face, then continued, “Tell me, alright? I'll make sure it doesn't happen again.

Cas shrugged Sam’s hand of his arm. “Thanks, Sam, but I trust Dean can handle himself.”

“I know he can. That's… kind of the problem.” Sam shifted uncomfortably. “It's not him I'm worried about, it's you.”

Cas’ brows knitted together. “I'm not entirely that I understand what you mean,” he said.

Sam opened his mouth, then closed it. No. He was not giving Cas any kind of talk. The angel was millennial. He would figure it out. Cas was still looking at him expectantly, though, so he finally said, “Cas… you know when Dean meets up with women, and they, uh, sleep together?”

Sam was worried he would have to explain further, but Cas’ expression cleared. His cheeks tinged red. “Oh. Yes.”

Sam nodded. He paused, then cleared his throat. “Right, yeah, okay, uh, I am going to walk back now…”

Castiel nodded. He glanced at his shoes. “I'll, ah, be there in a minute.” He dragged his toe along the crack in the sidewalk, trying to disperse the images of Dean flashing through his mind.

-:- 

You shouldn’t be caring about me.

Two days. That was how long it took for Cas to confess that Sam had talked to him, and Dean, in turn, to quietly move closer to him, until their foreheads were almost touching, and ask if this was alright.

You shouldn’t be asking me.

It was Cas who closed the space, sealing his lips on Dean's. The man let out a small noise of surprise, but was only too happy to deepen the kiss.

You shouldn’t be kissing me. 

 

Kissing Dean Winchester, Cas decided, the morning after, feeling the comforting warmth from Dean beside him, was knowing that there would always be a home to come back to.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time putting a fic out here, so bear with me. Any and all comments and constructive criticism are welcome. Thanks!  
> \- Theo


End file.
